


A Small Complication

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: F/M, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul gets an eyeful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small Complication

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Business Associates #3 under the pen name Llyr Chaves.

_"Mr. Drake, get your ass on the launch pad, and blast up here on the double!"_

 

          Ironhorse leaned over his desk, his attention focused on the latest computer triangulations on alien transmissions.  Some patterns were beginning to emerge, but they weren't quite clear.  In the corner of his office and TV and VCR were arranged, playing yesterday's security tapes.  It was procedure.  The tapes were just the day to day activities of the Cottage, and Ironhorse paid no attention to them.

          "Oh, Rocket Boy," a Russian-accented female voice called huskily.  "Where are you, Rocket Boy?"

          Ironhorse's head snapped up, his gaze riveting to the television screen.  His eyebrows immediately kissed his hairline.

          "Coleman?" he wheezed.

          Unable to do anything other than stare, the colonel watched his platoon sergeant stalk seductively forward, her black lace teddy leaving very little to his imagination.  From the corner of the screen Norton Drake rolled into the frame, grinning.

          "Ah, Rocket Boy," Norah purred, "you will give me your thruster.  We have ways to ensure your… cooperation."

          "Oh, yes, ma'am," he agreed readily.  "It's in the first stage of powering up right now," he purred back.  "Then it's all yours."

          "Very good, Rocket Boy.  I knew you would understand."

          Coleman swayed forward, stopping when she reached Norton and Gertrude.  With a lithe move, she straddled Drake's legs and inched forward.  Norton kissed her collarbone and throat.  She arched her head back, blonde hair cascading down her back.  Her hands reached out, stroking his chest and face.

          "Mmm, countdown to lift-off has begun, Rocket Boy," she cooed in the fake Russian accent.

          It reminded Ironhorse of a cartoon Debi favored… the one with a moose and a squirrel…

          "Gertrude, to the launch pad!  It's take-off time!"

          The wheelchair buzzed backward, carrying the pair out of the frame.  Ironhorse leaned forward, wishing that there was another camera set up in the room so he could switch tracks, but it had been agreed that the beds would not be part of the security tapes.  He blushed at his voyeuristic inclination.

          There was a pause, and he could hear Norton moving from the wheelchair to the bed.  The hacker sighed contentedly.  The bed squeaked and Ironhorse knew that Coleman had climbed on with him.

          Several gasps, moans, and sighs threatened to arouse the colonel.  Occasional pieces of clothing flew into the now empty frame, landing on the floor in seductive heaps.

          "Ah, yes, Rocket Boy," Coleman murmured, "fly me to the moon… ahhh…"

          Ironhorse's hand closed around the remote control.  He pressed the stop button, then reached for the phone.

          "What's up, big guy?" Norton's voice asked in a happy sing-song.

          "Mr. Drake, get your ass on the launch pad, and blast up here on the double!"

          "Uh, sure thing, Colonel.  I'll be right there."

          Ironhorse returned the receiver to its cradle and waited.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Less than a minute later Norton Drake rolled slowly into his office.

          "Norton," the colonel said quietly, "we need to talk."

          "Okay," Drake replied, equally quiet.

          "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, mister!"

          Norton blinked innocently.  "Doing?"

          "You know exactly what I mean," Ironhorse fumed, standing and stalking around his desk.  "Rocket Boy?!"

          Norton grinned.  "Hey, you know what they say…  If you've got it, flaunt it."

          "That's my platoon sergeant!"

          "That's my lover."

          Ironhorse's eyes dropped closed for a moment, then sprang back open.  "Okay, look, it's not that I'm not happy for you.  But, I mean— Jesus, Norton, she's—"

          "Beautiful?"

          Ironhorse shook his head, his mouth working but no words coming out.

          "Sexy?"

          The colonel paled slightly.

          "A soldier?"

          "Yes."

          "Yeah, I know."

          Ironhorse marched back to his desk, shaking his head.  "That's not good enough, Mr. Drake.  The security of this Project is caught up in this— this— seduction."

          "Why?"  He rolled closer to the desk.  "Look, Paul, it's as simple as this.  We have great sex.  We enjoy each other's company.  We like talking and being around each other, we might even love each other, but it does _not_ get in the way of the work we do."

          Ironhorse sat.  "You can't say that, Norton.  When we get emotionally involved, things change.  Subtle or drastic, the change is still there."

          Norton folded his arms over his chest.  "Are you saying that we're putting the Project at risk?"

          "No, not exactly."  Leaning back in his chair, Ironhorse took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.  "I just don't want Norah thinking about the wrong things when she's in the field.  Too many lives depend on her, including yours."

          Norton shook his head.  "I think you're being unfair.  She's a professional soldier.  The mission comes first.  I know that, and she knows that, but there's no reason why she and I shouldn't take a little happiness along the way when we find it."

          Ironhorse considered the hacker's words.  It was true that he hadn't seen any slippage in her performance.  "You might be right," he admitted.  "You both deserve whatever happiness you can find."  He leaned forward, his eyes fixing on Norton's.  "But understand this, if things don't work out, I need to know.  I don't want either of you in the field if you're not at a hundred percent, you understand that?"

          Norton nodded.  "I'll buy that."

          "Good."

          Norton rolled back, then paused, grinning.  "She's a hell of a lady, Colonel."

          Ironhorse dipped his head, returning to the paperwork.  "Yes, Mr. Drake, I noticed that myself."

          "See ya later," Norton said, adding in his best Russian accent, "darling."

          Ironhorse glanced up, his cheeks red.  "Norton, get your booster out of my office.  I have work to do."

          Drake rolled out, laughing.

The End


End file.
